


The Kink Chronicles

by Areiton, courie969, destimushi



Series: The Kink Chronicles [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Caning, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Consensual Kink, Deepthroating, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, Domspace, Facials, Hand Feeding, Kink Exploration, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Kink, Sub Dean, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-03 04:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10959906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton, https://archiveofourown.org/users/courie969/pseuds/courie969, https://archiveofourown.org/users/destimushi/pseuds/destimushi
Summary: This is a collection of unrelated kink ficlets that will get updated every week. Each story is written by a different writer, and will all be tagged accordingly in the chapter summary. Tags will be updated as the collection and number of kinks covered expand.





	1. On The Edge

**Author's Note:**

> The first piece by [destimushi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/destimushi/works)
> 
> Kink: Caning  
> Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, D/S scene

The cane sits snug in his palm, leather grip warm and smooth. Cas rolls his shoulders and takes a few deep breaths, and the fresh drags of air is enough to still the tremors in his hands.

The inside of his thighs are purple and blue, and Cas knows intimately how this feels even if he's never done it before. He’s never stayed with one person long enough to build the trust, and quite frankly, never wanted to. Everything changed when a green-eyed mechanic laid hands on his truck and walked away with Cas’ heart in his pocket. The world spun off its axis the day Dean’s knees struck the floor for him, head bent and arms tucked neatly behind his back.

So perfect. So perfect for him.

That perfection is laying face down on their bed now, miles of golden skin bathed in gentle sunlight, and every muscle buttery soft. Cas knows this, the fatigue in his shoulders a testament of his fingers tirelessly kneading until not a single pebble of tension remained in Dean's body.

“What's your colour?” Cas asks and ignores the tiny nagging voice in his head. He checks the thermostat for the hundredth time, inspects the cane from tip to handle and back to the tip again, runs his free hand along Dean’s flank and giving the muscles a tender squeeze. He’s stalling, he knows that, but the incessant flutter of butterfly wings in his gut is so goddamn loud, and he can’t seem to bring himself to _just do it_.

“Still green, sir.” Dean's voice is muffled, but Cas still detects that hint of amusement he's going to have to beat out of his mouthy sub sooner rather than later. The roaring in his ears stop, and Cas shakes his head, humbled. He’s the dominant, but it’s always Dean that grounds him.  

Cas trails one hand up Dean's left calf and smiles when Dean sighs into the pillow. His fingers travel higher, tracing along the dip behind Dean’s knee and lingers at the crease where muscular thigh meets round, firm cheek. The skin is supple here, thin and tender, and Cas has left many stinging bruises here.

This feels different somehow, and the weight of the cane drags him down, returns those pesky little shakes to his fingers until he shudders, full-bodied. Dean wiggles his butt, his hips lifting off the silk sheets and presses back against Cas’ hand.

“Sir?”

“Shh, no more talking,” Cas says and squeezes Dean’s thigh before tapping his fingers against the meat of his ass, “except to safeword.”

Dean relaxes and nods, and the ease of his obedience rushes through Cas like a tidal wave. Dean trusts him, lays himself bare for Cas, vulnerable and needy and so fucking gorgeous when he’s in pieces, trusting that Cas will put him back together.

Cas taps his fingers along the round of Dean’s ass, up the left side of his spine and down the right. Dean melts into the mattress, his body going more fluid with every touch. When the tip of the cane touches the top of Dean’s ass, he doesn’t flinch, just sighs as if the weight of the world has evaporated from his shoulders.

“I’m going to go slow, start with something I know you can take.” Cas drags the tip of the cane down the curve of Dean’s ass and bounces it just above the crease. “Let me know if you want it harder, or safeword whenever it’s too much. You may answer.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean sighs, “green, sir, green.” Not a demand, but not quite begging either, and Cas can’t help the burst of affection blossoming from his chest. Always the eager brat, like he’s made for Cas.

The cane stills and takes on a life of its own as Cas flicks his wrist. _Crack_ , and a hiss. Cas freezes, rattan pressing into supple flesh. Dean shifts as a visible tremor rolls through him. Cas waits until he settles, and the bloom of pink around varnished wood takes his breath away.

He peels the cane away to reveal a straight thin line, red center fading into a gradient of flushed pink; it's beautiful on its own, but breathtaking marring Dean's perfect skin.

The room is warm—to keep Dean comfortable—but he can't help the shiver running down his spine and the sudden chill rolling along his clammy skin. Cas drags the cane along the welt, and circles to the other side of the bed before snapping his wrist a little harder. Dean flinches under the impact, but the breathless little moan and the way his legs spread just a touch wider chases away Cas’ sudden insecurity. Dean loves it, is falling under faster than he's ever done before, and Cas is the one dragging him further beneath the waves even as Cas soars higher and higher above the clouds.

He doesn't wait as long this time, tracing the top an inch or so higher and the cane lands on the meat of Dean's ass with a reverberating crack. He presses the wood into the welt gently, rolling the cool surface against flaming hot skin. Dean's breath comes a little harsher, and his head’s rolled to the side. His lips are parted, glistening, and his eyes flutter open and close as if he can't decide which he wants more.

Cas will decide for him, like he always does.

“Close your eyes, Dean.” Another tap of solid rattan, a tickling scrape. “You don't need to think, just feel.”

Green eyes disappear from sight, and Cas loses himself in the fan of thick eyelashes against a galaxy of faint freckles. He waits until Dean’s breathing evens out again and pulls the cane back just far enough to tap down Dean’s thigh, tip dragging along sensitive skin. He stops at the ball of Dean’s foot and snaps his wrist.

A twitch, a soft hiss of breath. Cas doesn't wait, slaps the cane against the other foot, and draws the tip up the opposite leg until it's resting like a promise on Dean's ass again.

Somethings comes over him then, and suddenly he can't wait to see crimson bloom across tanned skin. Wants to mark Dean up, every strike of wood a brand—his brand—upon Dean's skin, on his soul.

Cas pulls his arm back, takes careful aim at the meatiest part of Dean's perky ass, and brings the cane down with a whistle. Dean gasps, breathy and soft.

He smiles. Cas hasn't even really gotten started yet. He knows how much Dean can take, knows how far to push until his submissive is delirious with sensation.

And he wants to push Dean now, wants to drag him so far down he forgets his own name. Cas breathes in, rolls the cane off abused flesh, and aims just a little lower.

Dean squeaks and his toes curl into the sheets. Cas grins, and strikes the same spot again with a little less force. This time Dean sobs, makes a garbled noise in the back of his throat. The sound music to Cas’ ears. The strip of rattan is a blur now, and each measured strike is more sure and more grounded than the next.

Cas is flying. Soaring even, and each snap of his wrist is a wing flap taking him higher. Dean has stopped twitching, his fists twisting wrinkled knots into the sheets. And his ass, oh god, the glorious rounds of supple flesh striped with straight, wine dark bruises.

Heat rushes through Cas, a fire burning so hot he can't help but be consumed by it. The cane is still flying, biting and kissing, punishing and tender, and for a second Cas is entranced by all that red.

“Sir,” Dean says with a quiver, “green. Please, green, sir.”

Sweet fucking jesus, he wants _more_ , begging for it in the only way he's allowed to. Cas hefts the smooth handle and the crack of wood against skin reverberates up his arm. Dean sighs, and there's contentment in that small puff of air.

A swell of pride overwhelms him. His chest aches, trying to contain something so much bigger than him, doing a piss poor job of it when he's bursting at the seams anyway. Cas is a little dizzy, and he's trembling with the weight of that feather soft sigh. So much faith, so much vulnerability, and Dean doesn't even bat an eye as he spreads himself out for Cas, trusting that Cas will hurt him to take care of him.

Dean's ass shifts, and his hips jump up to meet each strike. Cas doesn't need to see to know just how hard Dean must be, how good the sheets must feel sliding against the soft underside of his cock.

“Think you can come from this?” Cas isn’t ready for this kind of submission—it's too much—but he asks anyway because it’s _Dean_. Dean doesn't answer right away, only manages a blissed out grunt when Cas asked a second time. “You may, come that is, if you get there.”

“Will sir fuck me after if I do?” Dean's words slur a little.

“No, you'll be too sore.” Cas taps the cane against Dean's ass. “I'll get off though, however you want me to. You've earned it.”

“On my ass, please, sir.” The note of wishful desperation shoots straight to Cas’ dick.

“Fuck, Dean, whatever you want.”

They don't talk after that, just the sound of wood striking skin, and the occasional whimper when Cas hits that sweet spot deliciously hard. Dean is trembling, his hips canting up to meet every stroke, unflinching, earnest.

And when the cane lands one last time, Dean’s hips grind into the mattress and his broken sob echoes, the wrecked sound wrapping around Cas’ dick like a tangible thing. The cane falls from his fingers, and Cas crawls onto the bed, straddling the back of Dean's thighs. He strokes once, twice, and his orgasm punches through him and his vision goes blinding white.

His release paints pearls on lines of pink and red and purple, the canvas now complete with Cas’ signature.

He's panting, unsure of who and where he is for a moment, until the universe shrinks back down into their sunny bedroom. He runs trembling fingers along Dean's ass, marvels at the heat radiating from Dean's skin.

“Thank you, sir.” Dean’s voice is barely a whisper as he murmurs into the sheets, but it's never rang more clearly than that very moment. Cas collapses next to Dean and pulls his sub into his arms.

Dean snuggles into him, and Cas isn't sure who’s the anchor anymore. He breathes deeply and holds on tightly, lest he floats away in thick, fluffy clouds, and mumbles into sweat soaked hair as a fresh wave of contentment washes over him, “I love you, Dean.”

  



	2. Try Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a collection of unrelated kink ficlets that will get updated every week. Each story is written by a different writer, and will all be tagged accordingly in the chapter summary. Tags will be updated as the collection and number of kinks covered expand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece is written by [courie969](https://archiveofourown.org/users/courie969/works)
> 
> Kink: Learning to deepthroat, facial, masturbation, come eating

Cas trails his fingers over Dean's jaw and rubs the pad of his index finger over Dean's wet lower lip, pushing into the slack mouth slightly.

“Try again.”

Green eyes blown wide with lust and determination stare up at him through thick lashes and an obscene tongue darts out to curl around his finger. Cas tsks softly in admonishment and he curls his lips upward into a fond smile. He pulls his hand away and changes course to card fingers through Dean's hair, pushing lightly on the back of his head. 

Cas groans low when he feels Dean's tongue reach out to tease the head of his stiff cock, and Cas draws in a harsh breath as Dean takes the tip into his mouth. Cas watches Dean's lips stretching wide, and cries out when Dean sucks hard, his cheeks hollow. Dean bobs his head up and down, slowly taking in more, and Cas holds Dean's head still, eliciting a muffled moan.

Cas thrusts his hips forward, shoving his cock further down Dean's throat and he chuckles as Dean chokes, his hand comes up to grip around the base of his cock, fingertips not quite touching around the thick length. Cas throws his head back and moans as Dean tries to pull his hot mouth off, teeth scraping ever so slightly along the underside. 

He tightens his grip on Dean's hair, holding him in place, and Cas moves his hips forward, thrusting shallow and slow, filling into Dean's open mouth. Dean whimpers around his cock, and Cas smirks.

“Good boy,” he gasps as Dean swallows around his length, his hand stroking upward to meet his mouth.

“Two hands, baby,” Cas gasps out, his eyes flutters shut when Dean does something with his tongue. Forcing his eyes open again, he looks down just as Dean smirks up at him and brings his left hand up, wrapping it around his length. He twists both hands and Cas thrusts hard into his mouth to wipe the smirk off his face. 

He fucks into Dean's mouth, hitting the back of his throat, over and over again, panting and murmuring a litany of praise, and when Dean slumps, Cas holds him up with the tight grip in his hair. Feeling his balls tighten and familiar heat rising, he wrenches Dean away and takes himself in hand. Cas thrusts into his own fist and shudders when he sees Dean tilt his head back, close his eyes, and open his mouth.

Feeling fingers grip into his hips, he strokes once, twice, three more times before he's coming, shooting hot, white strips onto Dean's lips and tongue with a quiet moan. When he's finished, Cas runs his hand through Dean's hair and taps the head of his cock against Dean's mouth, smearing his come across swollen lips. He chuckles as Dean's tongue comes out to lick against the tip. 

Dean whimpers as he pulls away and Cas drops down to his knees and pulls Dean in close. He smooths his hand over Dean's cheek and leans in to drop a kiss against his lips, tasting himself there.

“So good for me, baby, let me take care of you.”

He smooths his hands down Dean's sides and brushes his knuckles over the front of Dean's boxers, fingers dragging against a large wet patch. Cas grins widely at the bright pink blush that rises on Dean's cheeks and kisses him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come play with us on [Tumblr](https://thekinkchronicles.tumblr.com/)!  
> Feel free to drop us a comment below or an Ask on our tumblr page if you have any kink requests! Be sure to let us know your author preference if you have one!


	3. Hidden Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not like this is private. It’s an alley, for fuck’s sake.  
> But then, there is Cas, his eyes so bright it’s almost like seeing his Grace, and he’s fumbling Dean’s jeans open, sliding his hand inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece is written by [Areiton ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton)
> 
> Kinks: Public sex, frottage, come eating.

The brick hurt, actually. It dug into his back where his shirt had been shoved up, and his head when it fell back against the wall, and it was  _ dirty, _ ok? 

“Cas-” Dean pants and the angel growls, low and furious. 

“You,” he snaps, almost offended, “are thinking too much.” 

Dean tilts his hips up, grinding slow and dirty into Cas and grins, cocky as hell. “Make me stop.” 

They’re in an alley behind the bar. Somewhere inside, Sam is striking out with a pretty blonde that Dean could have closed the deal on, and Kevin is getting drunk and running the tables at pool.

And it’s not like this is private. It’s an  _ alley _ , for fuck’s sake. 

But then, there is Cas, his eyes so bright it’s almost like seeing his Grace, and he’s fumbling Dean’s jeans open, sliding his hand inside and--

“Fuck, angel,” Dean gasps, almost laughing. Castiel’s grip goes tight and his hips punch up, a broken noise breaking free. 

“Shut up, Dean,” the angel snaps and kisses him again. 

It’s a revelation every damn time. Sometimes he forgets Cas is a warrior, that he’s this fierce, eons old being. 

But then, Cas kisses him, pushes him up into the wall of the bunker, backs him against the Impala, shoves him flat into their bed, and he can’t forget. Kissing Cas is a fight, a battle of lips and teeth and tongues, until Dean sighs and relaxes into it, takes everything Cas will give him and begs for more. 

And then the kiss turns soft, reverent, so hot it’s like swallowing the sun, and Cas always breaks it first, pulls away to press kisses into his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, biting and murmuring his name like a chant, like a psalm of praise. 

It fucking kills him, every damn time he kisses the angel.

And for a second, he forgets. He forgets they’re in a dirty alley, and Castiel’s got a grip on his dick, tugging slow and sure, coaxing him to come. 

Until the angel pulls away and shoves his pants down, just enough that Dean is completely exposed and he makes a noise that is  _ not  _ a yelp, before Cas drops to his knees, holding Dean against the wall with a hand on his hip. Dean stares down at the angel, and his eyes roll back when Cas takes him in his mouth.  

The blow job isn’t anything to write home about. It’s messy and dirty, all sloppy wet mouth and hands, and Dean’s gasping curses as he grips too tight at Castiel’s hair.

But this feels different. 

Not the blow job. Not the fingers curling around his balls, tugging just right. Not even the fingers brushing against his hole, a teasing promise of  _ more _ that he wants. 

It’s not just that--it’s the drag of Cas’s teeth, lightly, over his cock, and the brick, digging into his ass. It’s the door that’s two feet away and the laughter from the street, the sound of cars and girls shouting to each other. 

It’s Castiel, peering up at him, eyes shining with love and wicked pleasure, and the curl of his tongue as his finger presses  _ in _ . 

Dean makes a choked noise and comes, hard, giving it up to the angel on his knees, his head hitting the wall as he groans and spills into Cas’s mouth. 

Cas licks him clean and tucks him away, then surges to his feet, kissing him lazily as he rocks against Dean’s thigh. 

He can taste himself, and he moans as Cas rolls his tongue, pressing sticky salty come into his mouth. He groans and rolls his hips up as Cas grinds against him, until Cas breaks the kiss to groan  _ Dean _ , his voice shattered and starbright, and Dean swallows and holds him, holds him as the angel shudders through his climax, his teeth biting hard into Dean’s shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut. 

He laughs as the angel shakes against him, and the world spins by, outside their dirty alley. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come play with us on [Tumblr](https://thekinkchronicles.tumblr.com/)!  
> Feel free to drop us a comment below or an Ask on our tumblr page if you have any kink requests!


	4. Kneel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by destimushi
> 
> Kink: hand feeding  
> Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, spontaneous scening

There is something not quite right about the window. Or the chairs sitting crooked by the table. Dean turns his gaze back to his toast and fresh fruit and tries to ignore the churning in his stomach. 

“Morning, Dean, you ready for that interview?” Cas walks into the kitchen and stops, blue eyes piercing through him, leaving him vulnerable and bare. “What’s the matter?”

“I…”—Dean pushes his untouched toast around the plate—”it’s...I think so? I don’t know.” Lying to Cas never works out in Dean’s favour, and right now he needs Cas to not be upset with him. 

It’s too bright in the kitchen, too open. The toast is too dry, butter too salty. The world screams at him, but Dean doesn’t have the voice to scream back. His hands shake, and the tremors are too much. Unsettled. 

A warm hand lands on his shoulder, calloused fingers gentle but firm. Cas’ hand, and a single command that quiets. “Kneel.” 

Dean sags with relief as his knees strike the floor, the rough stretch of denim the only barrier between bare skin and smooth hardwood. Cas slides into his barstool, cards fingers through Dean’s hair, and picks up a blackberry with his other hand. 

“You need to eat,” he says without looking at Dean. “Can you finish everything on your plate?”

Dean nods, and Cas’ nails scrape against his scalp in soothing acknowledgment. Forward and back, and Dean breathes to rhythmic strokes. Side to side, a metronome clicking in his ears, drowning out all thoughts of interviews and new career choices and first impressions. The world folds in on itself, small and insignificant, and Dean floats beneath the strength of those fingers buried in his hair. 

“Open.” Sweet berry brushes against Dean’s lips, and he opens his mouth; it’s easy when Cas tells him to. Dean chews obediently, and the taste of submission bursts on his tongue. 

Another berry appears, and then a small piece of toast. Dean pulls the morsels into his mouth, lips brushing against Cas’ fingers, but he doesn’t lick them, doesn’t suck them in along with the food. He yearns for it—the soft slide of skin on his tongue, the faint taste of salt and  _ Cas _ —but he can wait; he’s good like that. 

Cas feeds him one small piece of food at a time, and Dean preens with each brush of encouraging fingers on his cheek, each scratch against his scalp, each murmured praise.  _ So good for me. Such an obedient pet. So pretty on your knees. _

He doesn’t know how long breakfast takes, loses count of how many pieces of fruit and bits of toast he’s swallowed. Time is irrelevant when Cas is the center of his universe. Something warm and velvety touches his lips, and Dean parts them without a second thought. With no thought at all. He trusts Cas implicitly, trusts that Cas knows exactly what he needs. 

“That’s it, baby.” Cas’ voice is even, a guiding beacon as Dean drifts. “You finished your breakfast. I’m going to reward you, do you want it? My cock?” 

Dean leans forward, fists resting on quivering thighs, and his jaw unhinges to take all of his dominant’s deliciously massive cock. 

“So eager,” Cas coos, fingers curling around the back of Dean’s head and pulling him in, thick cock sliding uninhibited down waiting throat. “So fuckin’ tight…” 

Dean’s throat relaxes with ease, so much practice he’s nearly perfect. Cas’ hips roll back, cock sliding along Dean’s tongue, in and out, faster, harder. “Gonna come all over your pretty face. Mark you mine.” 

And Dean keens, skin vibrating. He’s vaguely aware of his own straining erection, but he’s not chasing that release, uninterested in riding that edge. He’s happy where he is, equilibrium restored with each glide of Cas’ cock, and he waits, patient, because he’s good like that. 

 


	5. Author's Note

Hi everyone, Desti and I wanted to let you all know that we've decided to take suggestions into consideration and turn this work into a series rather than a multi chaptered ficlet. This means that since The Kink Chronicles is an ongoing thing it will no longer be perpetually listed as a WIP - we understand that sometimes when a story is listed as a WIP it turns away some readers that would rather wait until a work is finished before they read it, and we want everyone to be able to enjoy each one-shot story as they're meant to be enjoyed: as a stand alone piece that is part of a collection.

That being said, we'll be keeping the one-shots we've got up for this as is, but going forward each new work we produce will be its own story and this will turn into a series.

Please make sure you hit the subscribe button, bookmark us, tell your friends, anything you need to do to make sure you get notifications on when we add new stories. We should be keeping up with the one story posted per week, and I know both Desti and I have a couple stories lined up for the future!

And as always, we appreciate your comments and kudos (it satisfies our praise kink), and we're always open to prompt ideas and suggestions on what you'd like to see.

Much love,

courie969 and destimushi

<3

**Author's Note:**

> Come play with us on [Tumblr](https://thekinkchronicles.tumblr.com)!


End file.
